We ate in silence for a while. The only sound was the pleasant clinking of the forks, knives, glasses, and dishes. I also noticed a few women-young and old-shooting envious glances toward me. The young girl across from our table accompanied a wrinkle-faced, richly dressed old man. The sexy girl at the table next to her seemed to draw away from her horse-faced nerd companion.
I tried but failed to suppress the corners of my lips from rising.
Philip looked at me curiously. “Hope you at least like your food. Good?”
The scampi melted inside my mouth. “It tastes like it was cooked by an imperial chef in an ancient palace where if the emperor took only one bite instead of two, the cook would be executed.”
“Wow, that’s really dramatic! I like that.” Philip smiled, showing his perfect white teeth. “There are two things I really love in life-good food and beautiful, intelligent women.”
“Me, too,” I said, spearing another scampi, “especially women. That’s why I am so close to my Buddhist nun mentor. She is beautiful, like a film star.”
“But Buddhist nuns have to shave their heads, right?” Philip took a hearty bite of his raw steak. “I can’t imagine a bald woman being attractive.”
“Not until you see my mentor.”
He was now sipping his wine thoughtfully. “But why would you have a nun as a mentor?”
I blurted out, “Because I wanted to be a nun, and it’s Michael who…” I stopped.
“You did? Michael never told me that!” He scrutinized me intensely. The blue of his eyes shone like a sapphire under the mysterious full moon. “That would be such a waste. Meng Ning, promise me, never try again to be a nun. Anyway, I don’t like nuns.”
“Why? These women are very nice, compassionate people,” I said, picking at my vegetables.
“Because they don’t like men! That really irks me, especially those pretty ones. They deprive men who deserve good women.”
I’d never thought of it that way.
He cut off another chunk of meat and put it into his mouth. I noticed the color of his sensuously moving lips matched exactly his blood-streaked steak. “Your naïveté makes you so appealing,” he said.
“Thanks, but I’m already thirty, so I don’t think I’m that naïve.” I tried but failed to twirl the pasta onto the fork.
He eyed my awkwardness with amusement for a while, then said, “That makes you even more naïve. OK, now tell me about your past with the nuns.” He put down his fork, then delicately dabbed his lips with the white napkin.
So I did.
After I’d finished, Philip held my hand for a long time before he finally released it. “Meng Ning, let’s go home.”
I was surprised that the place where he pulled up was not Michael’s apartment building. “Philip, but this is not where Michael lives.”
“I know. It’s where I live.”
Although I wanted very much to say I needed to go home, my body involuntarily followed his.
Philip’s apartment looked very different from Michael’s. While Michael’s was decorated with Chinese objects, Philip’s was, like him, glamorous and sumptuous. Richly colored abstract oil paintings and glass bookcases covered the walls. Antiques of various shapes and sizes struck elegant poses in ornate cabinets. The carpet was thick, lush, with Occidental motifs of mystical animals in vermillion, green, and purple.
“Very nice apartment,” I exclaimed. “But I think I really should go home. Michael may call anytime.”
“Meng Ning, would you compassionately grant a lonely chap the pleasure and honor just to have an after-dinner drink with you?”
Feeling completely powerless, I muttered a weak, “Yes, of course.”
After he led me to sit down on his huge ivory leather sofa covered with colorful pillows, he went inside the kitchen and soon returned with a lacquer tray. He put down the tray and handed me a glass. After that, he sat next to me on the sofa, took off his jacket and tie, then started to sip his drink thoughtfully. Although he was not very near to me, instinctively I moved away a bit.
We started to chat about various things-music, films, art, museums, and his practice. I was surprised when he told me that some of his patients were Hollywood stars.
“I’m very tempted to tell you who they are, but I can’t.” He took another sip of his drink and looked at me with eyes soft and tender like blue silk. “But you know what? None of these stars can compete with your beauty.”
“Thank you for your kindness, Philip, but please don’t exaggerate.”
His expression turned serious. “No, not a bit. Their beauty is all skin-deep. I’m the one who fixes their skin so I know. Meng Ning, none of them can compete with your natural beauty, your naturalness, your mystery. It must be because of your Zen study.”
“Oh, Philip, you’re overpraising me.” Now my face must be the same color as his blood-streaked steak!
“With you, I only speak from my heart. I’d never have the heart to lie to this innocent face of yours,” he said, reaching to touch my cheek.
“Philip…” My cheek was hot, and so was his hand.
He murmured, his voice soaked in alcohol, “Meng Ning, I can’t help it; I just can’t. I’m in love with you, helplessly and desperately.”
“But this is only the third time you have seen me.” I tried to act calm, but my heart was beating like a door frantically knocked upon by a debt collector.
“Time is irrelevant,” he said, then pulled me close to him.
“Philip, please don’t…”
“Shhh…be quiet.” In no time, he sealed my lips with his. His hands held my waist tight. Then he pulled my whole body against his, warm like an oven.
I felt his body heat gradually penetrating my clothes, my skin, then trying to grope its way into my heart. His kisses, like the lava of a volcano, melted my lips. I felt my body plunging right into this dark, fiery pit of passion and danger.
Suddenly a sadness hit me so hard that I pushed him away. I started to weep, then sobbed involuntarily. My whole body shook like a tiny boat in a merciless storm.
Finally Philip let go of me. “Meng Ning, I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”
I shook my head.
“Did I…offend you?”
“I don’t know. Philip, I’m just engaged to Michael and now I feel strongly attracted to you. That’s not right!”
“Love has nothing to do with being right or wrong.” He tilted my chin and his penetrating eyes peered into mine; their expansiveness reminded me of the vast blue sky, the fathomless ocean. His voice was soft and tender like a feather. “Do you love Michael?”
I remained silent, overwhelmed by his mere presence and desire.
“If you don’t, feel free to love me. I’m all yours.” He kissed my hand, then pressed it against his chest. “Feel my heart, Meng Ning. It’s beating for you.”
“Philip, just let me go home.”
He kept staring at me, but didn’t say a word.
“Please, Philip.”
He pulled my face close to his. “Meng Ning, look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t love me.”
“Sorry, but I…can’t. I’m very confused. I should’ve stayed with Yi Kong and been a nun!”
“No, you’re not going to be a nun,” Philip said, starting to kiss me again.
I had to use sheer willpower to push him and my desire away. “Please, Philip, I really have to go home.”
“All right, if that’s what you really want.” He planted a kiss on my forehead, stood up abruptly, and held his hand out to help me up.
The next day I woke up late with a splitting headache, dry lips, and aching all over my body. Scenes from last night with Philip kept spinning in my head. I tried to listen to music, read, and meditate. But nothing worked. Philip’s hot kisses still seemed to linger on my lips, melting my heart and my body. Was I betraying Michael? Did I make the right choice to be his fiancée, or should I return to Hong Kong to take refuge with Yi Kong? How could I be attracted to another man so quickly? Was I becoming a slut?